


Strangeness and Charm

by apostated



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Character Death, F/F, F/M, M/M, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, POV First Person, POV Multiple, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2018-09-09 01:52:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8871103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apostated/pseuds/apostated
Summary: I tried to push myself up onto my elbows but they shook violently and I collapsed onto the detritus of the forest floor.  Rolling over onto my back, I coughed for a few seconds, still wheezing, still trying to regain control over my lungs.  I heard footsteps approach me and I forced my eyes open.  Immediately, I wished I hadn’t.  I was staring at the business end of a sword that was pointed directly at my exposed neck.  Had I so much as had another bad coughing spell, I’d have been run through.  My gaze followed the length of the steel (because that sure as hell wasn’t a foam LARP sword) up to the face of its owner and I felt my heart sink through my stomach.  A ghost was standing above me, his face wearing a look of combined shock, horror, and recognition that I knew was pretty damn identical to my own.  For the third time that day, I found myself unable to breathe.
I was staring up at the face of my dead twin brother.  I hadn’t been drugged.  There was no other way to explain it.  I was actually, properly dead.





	1. Breathless.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lissa gripes about undergrad and wakes up in a forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update frequency: what even is a schedule

**~USA, 2016, Lissa’s University’s Archives~**    


I stifled a yawn.My head was aching like an absolute bastard.I needed coffee, stat, and maybe a nap.I _definitely_ needed to be out of the too-large cotton gloves I was wearing and away from Ye Olde Englishe, as I had taken to calling it sarcastically.Medieval English wasn’t _that_ hard to understand once you grasped the International Phonetic Alphabet, but when you were running on a three hours worth of sleep and a deadline for your final paper, the letters tended to all blur together and I started to wish I’d been more into Elizabethan literature than Medieval Studies.At least Shakespeare had _plenty_ of penis jokes to keep someone entertained.Too bad the _Canterbury Tales_ were not a viable research option.I sighed and put the manuscript I’d been examining back into its little archival resting place.   


_Needing more primary sources my left boob.Why, oh why, couldn’t my outdated sources from the nineties have just been sufficient?Why couldn’t they say ‘Hey, Lissa, your work analyzing_ A Letter on Virginity _was absolutely titillating; do tell us more about how you believed it was penned by a bitter old matron instead of an overly religious pervert!Rifling through the archives searching and deciphering manuscripts for more examples of supposed female authorship is absolutely a definite waste of your time.’_    


I’d already read the anonymously penned _A Letter on Virginity_ so many times that I could have done some old medieval nut job proud with my knowledge of the virtues of retaining my, well, virtue.I preferred Margery Kempe.At least she believed she’d gotten the a-okay from the big man upstairs to do the dirty with her husband to have children because she’d atoned for her sins or something.I sighed again. As badly as my head was pounding, and as bitter as I was becoming at my undergraduate field of study, I definitely preferred the stuffy, dark archives to what was waiting for me when they closed for the “Christmas” holiday.  


My paper was due online at midnight, and the archives closed at six.I’d been spending almost all of my time there during the past two and a half months, focusing so much on this paper for my Medieval Lit class that most of my other work had lagged.But it was the last day of finals week; our in-class final had been earlier that day, but we still had the essays that we’d been working on all term to hand in.Mom was supposed to pick me up when the archives closed.The plan was we’d drive the hour and a half home and I’d finish whatever I needed to finish, then prepare to spend the holiday doing nothing but bingeing Netflix and avoiding my parents.  


I wasn’t proud to admit it, but I’d have rather stayed at school.Things were hard.I didn’t want to walk past my brother’s room with its perpetually closed door.I didn’t want to see my mom’s grief every time she looked in my face and saw my dead brother or her hands shake when she tried to cook or do laundry or literally anything.I didn’t want to see her anxiety when my dad was late to dinner again because his only coping mechanism was to throw himself into his work until it drove him crazy.Kind of like myself.He did IT work at the community college.I was an obsessive student.Blaming my absence on schoolwork worked as an excuse not to go home for Thanksgiving, even though it was just an hour and a half away.But Mom refused to budge on Christmas.It had always been Liam’s “thing”.Now that he was gone, it seemed doubly important to her that I be there this first Christmas without him.I didn’t want to think about how stupid the whole thing felt.   
 

The door to the room I was in creaked open and Mary, the graduate student who worked the front desk, poked her head in, interrupting my thoughts.   


“Hey, Melissa, we’re closing in about half an hour.Do you need any help putting things back?”  


I prickled at her use of my full name.Nobody called me Melissa except my mom when I was in trouble.I knew they were supposed to ask to put the artifacts away and technically I wasn’t supposed to refuse their help, but I’d spent so much time practically living amongst dusty old artifacts that I shook my head.I knew their filing system like the back of my hand.Dr. Donovan hadn’t gotten me access to the manuscripts our university possessed for a lack of trust.Honestly, they should have just hired me to work there.That, and her blatant refusal to call me by the name I went by irked me to no end.It was a petty refusal, really.  


“Nah,” I said nonchalantly.“Wait.Yeah.I found this on the desk when I came in.”  


It took a bit of shuffling papers and shifting old, slightly moldy library books for me to find it hidden underneath some long-dead noblewoman’s crumbling love letter.I held the pendant up by the decaying leather thong that was attached to it; it resembled some sort of ancient, crude necklace.It was copper, I thought; the green patina was a pretty dead giveaway.And forged in the shape of a wolf’s head.With six eyes. _Creepy_.It definitely appeared to be at the very _least_ medieval, if not even from before the fall of the Roman Empire.Old as _balls_.I knew it wasn’t the oldest thing the university had stored; I’d seen cuneiform tablets and the like.Although, dangling in front of my face so that Mary could see it, I noticed what I assumed was writing on the back looked weirdly similar to cuneiform.Or runes.Maybe even sanskrit.Arabic?I didn’t have experience with any of those languages save a limited exposure to runes. It could be Viking; they had that whole “wolf bringing about Ragnarok” thing going for them.  


“I guess someone left it out.Do you have any idea where it goes?”I asked her.  


She came into the room, squinting down at it, pushing her glasses up her nose to better see.  
 

“I…don’t, actually.I’ve worked here six years and I can’t ever recall actually seeing that before, not even when we did the inventory and cataloguing.Dr. Patterson’s going to poop a brick.Anyone could’ve walked in here and stolen it!”  


She didn’t reach out to touch it; she wasn't wearing any protective gloves to keep the oil from her hands off of it.I lay it down gently, afraid that the leather would finally give way and the whole thing would fall apart.I made a thoughtful face.  


“Medieval, Byzantine, Roman?Viking?”  


“No clue.Put it with the other few pieces of medieval jewelry we have when you put back themanuscripts.We’ll have it on camera that you returned it, and I’ll tell Dr. P about it tomorrow and he can put it where it belongs or send it off for testing or something.It’s unnerving, though; creepiest necklace I’ve ever seen.A wolf with six eyes?”  


Mary shut the door behind her and I went about tidying up, first replacing the manuscripts and then returning to the room for the necklace.The hair on the back of my neck stood up.I’d seen artwork like that before in a purely fictional world that I spent hours both playing and watching my brother play. _The Dread Wolf, from Dragon Age?You’re bonkers.It’s just some old as balls Viking necklace.You’re an academic.See, this is what no sleep does to you._ Next semester, your ass is getting eight hours per night.  


It was certainly in good condition; save for the erosion of one of the ears, the only damage it hadsustained was the bright green patina that was common with aged copper.I picked it up, laying the head in my hand.My palm was barely larger than the pendant and I couldn’t help but notice that there was a very distinct heat emanating from the tiny object.The warmth radiated through my protective cotton glove, and I swallowed.Should it be doing that?It’d been laying on a desk, with no direct light or heat source for it to absorb.I was curious, and a pinch afraid.There were two cameras on either side of the room.I swallowed, making up my mind.Dr. P was going to have me absolutely banned from back here, I knew it, but I had to know. _I can blame it on a scholar’s curiosity._ Worst comes to worst, Dr. Donovan will have to escort me whenever I need to access anything.  


I lay the necklace down on the table and stripped off the righthand glove.Lifting the necklace by the worn leather thong, I lay it in my palm, and the whole world went screaming into darkness.  


Once, when we were nine, I went swimming with Liam.Our babysitter was asleep upstairs, and we knew Mom and Dad would kill us if they found out we went swimming unsupervised.The fact that we were forbidden to do it was the whole reason behind us _wanting_ to do it.Our sitter didn’t want the chlorine to ruin her dye job.It was the hottest summer I’ve ever lived through, and we’d snuck out onto the deck in our swimming suits.The sitter hadn’t so much as let an eye twitch as we made our escape.The water was so refreshing, and Liam helped me figure out how to float on my back.I’d been going to swimming lessons but all I could do was doggie paddle at best and I needed help overcoming my fear of floating on my back.I still refused to use the diving board.Liam had been like a fish, jumping off the sides and swimming laps over and over again while I floated, the sun-warmed water and the summer heat lulling me into a sense of weightless peace.I had fallen asleep when Liam slid off the side of the pool in the shallow end instead of using the pool ladder, and I started.In my sleep, I’d floated out to the deep end unknowingly, and my panic sent me under, flailing.I freaked out, swallowing water instead of holding my breath and all my lessons about treading water or doggie paddling or _anything_ went out the window.The chlorine burned my eyes.I remember coughing and inhaling more water as my lungs burned for air.  


It was the closest thing I could think of to describe what happened to me, except this time, oblivion came first.There was a sense of weightless nothingness before my lungs started burning for air.I gasped as my lungs tried to remember how to function.The first breath left me sputtering and coughing and I spasmed slightly as I choked on air and my own spit.My chest ached like a frigging _mother_ with every hack and I tried to gulp down more of the fresh, clean air.   


_Wait._  


There wasn’t a trace of must and mold in the air nor the sterile arid atmosphere the archives had to artificially maintain to keep the artifacts from becoming damaged.My eyes flew open, expecting to see the ugly, grey, institutional ceiling of the archives but instead seeing green. _Green?_ My vision was blurry and I blinked in an attempt to clear it. _Definitely green._ Leaves, more specifically.I’d been dumped in a _forest_.But…hadn’t I been in the archives last?   
 

I recalled again the memory of that day that I nearly drowned.I’d woken up with an EMT hovering over me, expelling the water out of my lungs.That hadn’t exactly been pleasant, but neither had waking up, confused, over where the hell I was and what the hell was happening.My mind was whirling and the headache I’d had earlier returned in full force.I groaned as I sat up. _Definitely_ a forest and definitely _not_ the archives.The whole place seemed blurred around the edges by a heavy fog and overcast sky.The tree trunks were the biggest I’d ever seen in my _life._ I knew I was somewhere older than I’d ever set foot in before.This forest was even older than any manuscript I’d ever held.I felt like an intruder into some sort of forbidden, holy place.   


The amulet was still clutched in my hand but it didn’t burn against my skin anymore.Quite the contrary; it felt almost _cold_.A shiver ran down my spine. Something was _not right._  
  


_Oh, my God.Did Mary somehow roofie me in the archives and drag my body out here to murder me?I always thought she was kind of off.What kind of graduate student doesn’t say_ ** _fuck_** _at_ least _once a week?I say it at least once an hour and I’m an undergrad!_ Seriously, nobody should be that upbeat while writing a dissertation.  


My body hurt; the pain was somewhere between “you’ve got the flu” and “just been in a car accident”.I’d flipped a car once when I was seventeen just after getting my license.The aches and pains weren’t something you forgot.Was I suffering from some sort of amnesia?Had Mom picked me up at school and wrecked on the way home?It took a lot of effort to look around me; my head spun with the movement, but I didn’t see the usual debris anywhere that came with a car wreck, nor did I feel like any body parts were broken.If I had been propelled out of the car, I’d at least have scratches from breaking through the windshield.   


_And a broken neck; if you’d been thrown out of a car during an accident you’d at the very least be in a coma, if not dead._ The probability of survival would be next to nothing, especially given that the worst you’ve apparently suffered is the beginnings of a migraine, possible amnesia, and a few achey muscles.  


It bothered me that the last thing I could remember was the archives.I stood up, gingerly, ignoring the bought of vertigo that threatened to send me back on my ass again.I brushed the dirt and bits of dead leaf off of my jeans and shoved the wolf’s head necklace in my pocket.Time enough to figure that out later once I had my bearings.Which was difficult, given that I had _no fucking clue where I was.  
  
  
_ I decided wandering would be my best bet.Moss grew on the north facing side of trees, didn’t it?Or was it the east?North?Either way, I’d find some trees that had moss and follow the direction it was growing in.Maybe then I’d find a road or water or _something_ other than the eerie silence that surrounded me.There weren’t even any regular animal noises; it was completely silent save the sounds of my footfalls shuffling leaves or snapping small twigs.  


The trees were getting thicker and I was getting more frustrated.I paused, glowering at the wilds around me before a twig snapped to my left.I whirled around just as a male voice to my right shouted at me to take cover.I barely ducked in time for an arrow to soar over my head and I heard the unmistakable sound of a body hit the forest floor as whatever had been struck by the arrow let out an unholy screech.Then whoever shot the arrow was running in my direction.I panicked, rising from where I stooped and absolutely trucking it through the forest with no rhyme or reason as to where I was going save for _away from the crazy motherfucker shooting arrows at people_.   


Whoever had shouted at me was following me; I heard them crashing ungracefully through the underbrush, making more racket than I was in his pursuit.He was gaining ground on me, but then I heard a horrific snarl that was decidedly _not_ human as a dark form shot out of the bushes off to my right, launching itself at me.I swerved so sharply that I lost my balance.I fell flat on my ass, catching a glimpse at my would-be assailant’s face just as another arrow found its target in its eyeball and it fell over, dead, onto my left leg.I nearly shit myself. _THAT…THAT THING IS DEFINITELY NOT HUMAN!_  
  


_Probably some LARPers or someone filming a video or something!_ Relax!   


_I literally saw an arrow go flying off into the bushes and heard a body hit the ground with a scream that I’m sure is straight out of my worst nightmares.Also, how do you explain Ugly McFuckFace IN MY FUCKING LAP?AND SOMEONE SHOT HIM IN THE FUCKING EYE.This is some shit out of Lord of the fucking Rings!_ I will not relax until my ass is safely inside a house, away from whatever the fuck is going on or until I wake up from this absolute nightmare!   


I managed to wiggle out from the heavy, unmoving body that had my leg trapped.I was vaguely aware of some sort of disturbing whimpering noise until I realized that it was, in fact, me.Sobbing.A completely rational reaction, I thought, to having an inhuman creature fall over dead onto me.I hauled myself on my feet and kept running, the only thought in my head the constant streaming of _Oh, everloving fucking fuck_ as tree roots tripped me up and branches snatched at my hair.Panic had me running blind, and I shrieked as my foot caught on a tree root and I went stumbling down a sharp slope.Rocks scratched at my arms through my hoodie, tearing the fabric and leaving bloody marks on my skin. As I reached the bottom of the hill, my body flipped over on itself and I landed ungracefully on my stomach, the wind completely knocked out of me.   


I couldn’t draw breath; I was vaguely aware of the wheezing, pained noise I was making and that my whole body felt like I’d been hit by a garbage truck.Once the adrenaline wore off, it’d hurt like hell.I tried to push myself up onto my elbows but they shook violently and I collapsed onto the detritus of the forest floor.Rolling over onto my back, I coughed for a few seconds, still wheezing, still trying to regain control over my lungs.I heard footsteps approach me and I forced my eyes open.Immediately, I wished I hadn’t.I was staring at the business end of a sword that was pointed directly at my exposed neck.Had I so much as had another bad coughing spell, I’d have been run through.My gaze followed the length of the steel (because that sure as hell wasn’t a foam LARP sword) up to the face of its owner and I felt my heart sink through my stomach.A ghost was standing above me, his face wearing a look of combined shock, horror, and recognition that I knew was pretty damn identical to my own.For the third time that day, I found myself unable to breathe.  


I was staring up at the face of my dead twin brother.I hadn’t been drugged.There was no other way to explain it.I was actually, properly dead.Or insane.I immediately ruled out that this was some sort of bizarre dream.There was no way I could have been dreaming; my chest hurt so goddamn bad that I knew if I’d been asleep it would have woken me immediately.  


“Liam?” I croaked.My voice was barely more than a whisper.  


He said something to me that I couldn’t hear over the ringing in my ears.His face was the last thing I saw before I passed out from shock.


	2. Waking.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wakey wakey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where things are COMPLETELY different. I wasn't satisfied with where this story was going previously, and a replay of DA:O proved that I definitely needed to change direction with it. Hope you enjoy, and thanks to everyone for the love. --apostated

_“Liss!”_  
  
_The muffled greeting came from my left and I turned, the voice calling to me as familiar as my own.A grin spread across my face without my consent; I’d missed the lopsided smile my brother was giving me, his hair its usual untidy mop of auburn curls._ Why did I miss it though?He’s standing right there. _I took one step, then two, only vaguely aware of the sluggish pull in my limbs as I tried to make my way to my brother.Each step I took put him farther away from me.Liam laughed.I started to run, a panic building in my chest as he became smaller and smaller, eventually no more than a dark speck on a murky green horizon.I forced my legs to work harder, to keep moving, because if I stopped I’d never see him again.His laughter was all around me, haunting me, chasing me._ Not again, not again, not again. _Just keep running, I told myself, as though his laughter was some great beast stalking me through the shapeless landscape I ran through.I could feel its hot breath on my back._ Run, goddammit, run _.  
_

_A rock sent me flying over the edge of a chasm and I was falling, falling, falling for an eternity, with Liam’s laughter burning in my ears._

_I landed in a bed, heart racing, palms sweating.The cold of my bedchamber felt good on my feverish skin.I tried to grasp at the tendrils of whatever dream I had been having before but it was like trying to catch smoke with my hands.Something was wrong though; wrong with Flynn.I could feel it in my blood.We’d always had a sense for such things.I rose, fumbling for the daggers I’d carelessly thrown on the floor earlier before I’d fallen asleep.Their familiar weight felt good in my hands.Reassuring.Protective.I pressed an ear to the door, trying to hear something,_ anything, _over the beating of my own heart._ There. _The sounds of fighting.Shouting._ I shoved the door open and stepped out into hell.  


~ **Thedas, Fifth Blight, Before the Battle of Ostagar~  
  
**

“Hnghmrphurgh,” I groaned.I felt like absolute _shit._ No, scratch that.Shit probably felt better than I did.“ _God-fucking-shit-dick,_ ” I murmured, pressing my forehead into my arm in a rather vain attempt to quell some of the pain that had accumulated behind both my left eyeball and the middle of my forehead.This was worse than _any_ tequila hangover I’d ever had in my entire college experience.All I wanted to do was roll over and go back to sleep but _fuck me_ , my head hurt too badly to do anything except groan.And swear.I tried to swallow but my mouth was so dry all it did was bring to my attention the absolutely _disgusting_ taste coating my tongue and teeth.It was going to take a whole gallon of Listerine to make my breath minty fresh again.So. Gross.

“…don’t understand.Of course you don’t.I _saw_ her — an arrow through the heart, laying in a pool of her own blood with—with Oren and Oriana,” someone fervently whispered, their voice so low I barely caught the words.They made no sense.Had I left the television on again?I moaned again, the sound muffled against my arm before I pulled my knees up to my chest.My head fucking _hurt._ And for that matter, the rest of me…I flexed my toes and stretched out my legs before drawing them back up again.Weird.Shouldn’t that have hurt? _Why should it have hurt, though?You’ve just partied too hard with the other girls in the dorm again._ You need water, maybe a bacon sandwich. 

_Ew, not bacon._ Maybe some toast would be nice, though.

My stomach rumbled and I stretched again, rolling over onto my right side, trying to find a slightly more comfortable position to better ease off whatever kind of fucked up hangover I was dealing with.It was hard to get comfortable, though, when it felt like I was laying on solid ground.A very lumpy bit of solid ground.Whoever had been talking before had lowered their voice so that I could only make out a soft, incoherent buzz.It was deep, soothing, and for a moment the cadence nearly lulled me back off to la la land.My stomach growled again, louder this time, and I took a deep breath, resigned to consciousness despite the throbbing between my temples.

“Ugh.”

There was a bit of shuffling and someone settled beside me on top of the covers, their warmth radiating through my blanket.They brushed some of the hair out of my face and my eyes snapped open.I sat up, dazed, my vision blurry from both the headache and from however long I’d been out for.It was a mistake as a wave of vertigo threatened to overwhelm me.I blinked several times and when some of the haziness in my head and in my vision finally faded, I felt the color drain from my face. 

“Fi?” 

Liam sat beside me, armed and armored to the teeth, dried blood smattered across his breastplate and his face. _No, this isn’t right.Liam is dead.I watched him die.I_ watched _him die.He can’t be here.He can’t.I watched them take him off life support.He’s dead.Deaddeaddead._ He said something again but I couldn’t understand him over the ringing in my ears.I watched his mouth move to form words I couldn’t hear, his brow furrowed in concern.I’d had an anxiety attack before; more than one, actually.I didn’t have an anxiety disorder, but when Liam passed, I became more prone to them than I was before.I could feel my breath catching in my chest as I struggled to breathe.The ringing got more insistent.I could see the spots dancing in front of my vision, the tell-tale sign that I was going to pass the fuck out. _Panic, you’re just panicking._ It’s going to be okay, breathe just breathe just breathe just b—

_MY BROTHER IS BACK FROM THE DEAD HOW THE GODDAMN EVERLOVING FUCKING HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO BREATHE?_

I laughed, the sound deranged, and terrifying, and manic…even to me, and I could barely hear.Liam blanched, his face confused and hopeless as he wrapped his arms around me to try and…what?Comfort me?Stop me sounding like some weird-ass DC villain?I giggled like a crazy person in between gulping like a fish out of water for air.I was vaguely aware of struggling in his grasp, laughing and crying and wheezing and sobbing, before I managed to break free.I kicked at him, landing a solid hit to his thigh (which, honestly, hurt me more than him), and he grabbed me again, pinning my arms to my sides.An elderly woman who looked vaguely familiar said something that I suppose was meant to be soothing.Too bad I didn’t catch it.Liam held me tight as the older lady uncorked a bottle of something that smelled of lavender and chamomile.She tipped it down my throat in between my thrashing about in my undead brother’s arms and I nearly gagged; the taste was horribly herbal.But it had the desired effect: I could feel my heart rate decreasing; breathing was becoming easier; the ringing in my ears had quieted.It didn’t do shit for the crying.I felt like my heart was being wrenched out of my chest.This was worse than the funeral.Worse than the hospital.To have him so close, and know that none of it was real, could _ever be real_ unless I was dead…it was worse than losing my best friend from birth all over again.I could hear him shushing me as the whatever-I’d-been-force-fed’s effects kept working their way through my body.My limbs began to feel heavy, like when you get out of a pool after swimming for a long time, and eventually the tears stopped, save for a hiccup every now and then.I was so unbelievably tired.I couldn’t stop blinking stupidly up at him.I knew I’d never see him again.I wanted to drink in every single detail of my brother’s face, details that I had begun to forget, even if my face echoed his in the mirror.But a wave of exhaustion washed over me and I knew no more.

 

* * *

 

Waking the second time was easier.My headache was gone, for one.I felt oddly calm, a sharp contrast to before.For another, it seemed I had either been left alone or anyone else that might be around me had fallen asleep.I cracked one eye open to get a peek at my surroundings.A tent.A very _dark_ tent, it would seem.I was buried under blankets and a few furs, laying on some sort of bedroll.I didn’t move, not even to roll over.I craved solitude for the moment.Solitude and silence.My chest ached in the familiar way it always did after having a panic attack.It was, ironically, quite soothing.Good to know that _something_ was real even if my brain was having a hard time keeping up with anything.I had definitely had a panic attack. _But what else?  
_

My mind immediately turned to the archives, trying to replay through everything that had happened to me.I was researching and then I touched that pendant… _the pendant!_ I reached into my pocket and brushed the copper — still cold.Not a dream then.I felt a sliver of relief, followed almost immediately by a pooling of dread in the pit of my stomach.Wherever I was, I wasn’t at home.For one thing, Liam was here. 

_That’s not Liam_.

Not for the first time, I wished my inner voice would shut the fuck up.I wanted to believe it was my brother.But I’d put the first handful of dirt on his casket myself.I’d been in the hospital room as the doctor announced the time of death.I clenched my fist and dug my nails into my palm, wincing from the pain.No, _definitely_ awake.So who was he?I seemed as familiar to him as he was to me.Who, if not Liam?

_It’s not him.Liam’s eyes were hazel, not bright green.He was missing that dot of orange around the pupil that you have too.His hair’s different as well.It’s a slightly different shade of auburn._ I don’t know who Look-Alike Larry is, but his ass isn’t Liam.

I wanted to cry again.It was a shitty habit I had, crying when I got frustrated.But nothing made any _sense_.Where the _hell_ was I?My thoughts dashed between one possibility to another, each more unlikely than the last.I didn’t think that I was dead.I certainly didn’t _feel_ dead, but I suppose if I were, I wouldn’t exactly know.I hadn’t seen any bright white light or heard choirs of angels singing.I could only remember darkness each time I’d regained consciousness, which didn’t exactly bode well for my immortal soul.Although I suppose it would have been awkward to wake up in Heaven, given that I wasn’t exactly a staunch believer in any sort of deity.I also didn’t think that I was insane.But, sadly, it was yet another one of those things that was kind of high on the list of How in the Goddamn Fuck Would I Actually Know?

And who was that old lady?So far as I knew the only old bat Liam had ever known was our grandma and she’d been dead nearly half of our lives.This woman was _definitely_ not her.She was too thin, for one.But there was something about her that tickled my memory…I have no idea how long I lay there rationalizing, trying to make sense of what was going on.I was a scholar; if there was one thing I was good at, it was nitpicking _everything_.

The rustling of the tent flap opening interrupted my thoughts, followed by a flash of dim light behind my eyelids, and the sound of heavy footsteps approaching me.They settled themselves beside me on my “bed” (if it could be called that).I decided to barely crack open my eyes; if it was something or someone unpleasant, it would be easier to pretend to go back to sleep. _Liam._ I ignored the way my blood turned to ice and my heartbeat started to pick up.I could fall apart again when I was alone.Call it a scholar’s curiosity, but I needed some damn answers.

“Fi?” he called softly, gently shaking my shoulder in an attempt to wake me.I felt a prickle of irritation at the gesture.At least I was only faking sleep, and not actually taking a snooze.I really _would_ have been pissed if I’d actually been asleep.I opened my eyes in feigned bleariness, rubbing them for a few seconds for good measure before I sat up.The confusion on my face was real enough though.

“Oh, thank the Maker,” his grin would’ve sent girls that didn’t share a gene pool with him swooning.“You scared the hell out of me, Fiona.”Liam wrapped his arms around me in a giant bear hug while I just sat there, mouth agape.It was neither comfortable or comforting.Having a sword pommel digging into my kidney wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time.In retrospect, the whole thing would have probably looked hilarious to an outsider: my brother-not-brother grinning like an idiot, hugging me; me, refusing to reciprocate and instead letting my arms just sort of noodle about; my brow furrowed and my mouth opening and closing as I fought for something to say. 


	3. Outlander

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lissa is an angry potato basically

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update; I really only get to write at night if I get off early enough any more, but I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it!

“I cannot stay long,” he continued, squeezing me once and then letting go to hold me at arm’s length, a dopey smile still on his face.“I merely wished to check on you before I met with Duncan and the king.Wynne shall be here soon with some broth.I still can scarce believe my eyes…How did you do it, Fiona?How did you escape, what with Howe’s men…”He trailed off, voice cracking on the last sentence.Whoever Liam’s doppelgänger was, the concern he felt for me seemed real enough, even if he insisted on calling me the wrong name.

He suddenly pulled me close again and pressed a kiss to my forehead. _Oh, GROSS._ My hand twitched with the desire to wipe it away.It was a childish impulse but it felt… _wrong_.Not Jaime and Cersei Lannister levels of wrong but…it wasn’t something that _my_ brother would do.The only person he kissed in our family was our mother on her cheek.He was never overly affectionate with _anyone_ , not even his girlfriends.He didn’t have to be, though.He was never really open with his emotions, but he always made sure that those he loved knew it.One-armed hugs, great birthday presents, just being there to listen when I needed him to be…that stabbing pain was back in my chest.My eyes stung and my throat felt tight.I missed my brother.To have him _right fucking there_ , so _close_ , and to have him be so far away at the same time…I had never coped well with his loss.I wanted to be left alone so I could cry and scream and just be pissed off _with no witnesses_ , but the body crushed against mine felt so real, so solid that a sick, twisted part of me was afraid to let go of the complete stranger sitting across from me.Part of me was afraid it really was a dream, and if I let go, I’d never see him — even the ghost of him — again.I had missed playing _Dragon Age_ or _The Witcher_ with him on weekends, having to cover for him when he snuck out, missed how goddamn fucking _normal_ our family was before it all went to shit because he had to go and fucking die.Because when Liam died, everything else went with him.A sense of normalcy.Mom not seeing a ghost any time I got milk out of the fridge.Dad being home _ever_.Not being angry all the time, or scared I was going to lose someone else.Not being _alone_. 

_You need to calm down._

Forcing myself to count to ten, I inhaled and exhaled slowly, taking in the smell of metal, sweat, and woodsmoke that stung my nostrils.It was disgusting enough to keep me from outright sobbing.I was so goddamn _frustrated._ How could it be Liam and, at the same time, _not be Liam?_ Wynne…Howe…Duncan?Who were these people?

I continued to struggle with finding something, _anything_ to say to be part of what was quickly becoming a one-sided conversation, but my mind was scrambling, torn between fifty thousand thoughts and questions, including but not limited to “ _I have to pee”_ and “ _Since when does Liam have an English accent?”._

“I—wait…it…you…what?” I spluttered. _Nice.Out of everything floating around in this hellhole of a brain, you go with vague and incoherent._ I wrenched myself out of his arms, which was no easy feat, considering the boa constrictor-like embrace he had me in and his armor. 

“You don’t remember.”It wasn’t a question. 

The face that was both so alien and so familiar contorted with an emotion I couldn’t read, but I knew the look in his eyes well enough — pain, quickly buried and replaced with a neutral expression.I couldn’t say how many times I had done the exact same thing the past few months.Everything about this was unnerving and eerie. 

“Um…No?”I couldn’t stop the sarcasm from oozing into my tone.There was a brief flash of annoyance in his eyes.

“The Grey Warden and Howe visiting?Howe’s betrayal…the raid on Highever?You remember none of it?Fiona, I _saw_ …” he broke off, his voice rising slightly with anger and the memory of some unknowable pain that I wasn’t privy to.I bristled. _Something_ was _wrong_ ; I could feel my mind trying to connect the dots, like it was some sort of bizarre thesis that I couldn’t quite find the _right_ way to put into words.I threw my hands up in agitation and shot him a glare.

“What did you ‘ _see_ ’?Be straight with me, damn it, because honestly, you're _kind of_ starting to piss me off with the whole ‘Fiona’ thing.Grey Wardens?Highever?Because this isn’t some bullshit — _oh._ ” 

Oh _._

_Oh._

**_Oh._ **

_Oh no._

The revelation hit me like a train. 

_Oh, no, no no no.Don’t you fucking_ **_dare_ ** _give credence to that thought._

It was the only thing that made logical sense. 

‘ _This isn’t some bullshit video game.’_

I ran my hands through my hair and _really_ studied the man in front of me.Curly auburn hair, two shades darker than mine and Liam’s.Bright green eyes with a scar over the left eyebrow.Too many freckles from being out in the sun far more than my brother had been.But he had the wide mouth and the cat-shaped eyes that ran in our family, though.I swallowed.This wasn’t _possible_.The headache that was rapidly returning said otherwise, however. 

This stranger was my brother’s Hero of Ferelden. _Flynn Cousland._ It was freaky how much more he looked like my brother in real life than he did in shitty 2007 graphics. 

My parents had bought us the game the summer of our junior year of high school.We were both obsessed with it; my brother and I ate that shit _up_.We loved anything to do with fantasy and video games.It was _so_ nerdy, but I had always grown up fascinated by medieval life.Any contemporary fiction set in a world that shared similarities with that particular time period I had to get my hands on.Liam wasn’t quite as bad; where I played _Dragon Age_ for an immersive experience, he played it, and I quote, “To fuck the Archdemon up.”But it was Liam who had joked that our Wardens were twins; only, one of them had to die when Howe’s men came to call.In his playthroughs, it was always my Warden, Fiona, in order to explain her lack of presence in the game.

_Oh, my God, Flynn Cousland thought I was Fiona._

I felt all the blood drain from my body only to be quickly replaced with ice, sharp needles pricking under my skin and making me feel like I needed to claw my way out of my own body.I needed to…

…To do…something.Anything.I felt, in that moment, as if I could tear my way out of the tent and run for miles and miles and not stop until I found the edge of the world and flung myself off of it, cackling like a maniac the entire time.Liam — no, _Flynn,_ I reminded myself sharply with a bark of laugh — was saying something else, his eyes stormy, the former relief vanished in the wake of aggravation.Jesus fuck, I was having a (relatively one-sided, mind you) spat with someone who, for all intents and purposes, _was not supposed to exist._

_This is some X-Files level bullshit._

Flynn kept talking, but the annoying buzzing in my head was back, as was the spinning in my head.Or maybe that was just my brain trying to wrap itself around the fact that I’d somehow transcended fucking reality and ended up in a fictitious video game world chatting with my dead brother’s original RPG character. _Yikes_.But I needed to think; if I was in Thedas, _when_ was I in Thedas?Fifth Blight, definitely and…I couldn’t think, his voice and the buzzing and the vertigo and the itching under my skin and in my teeth distracting me from any thread of thought I might be able to grasp onto for more than half a second.Something in me finally broke.

“Oh, for the love of all that’s holy, would you **please** just _shut the fuck UP,_ ” I half-shouted.Mercifully, he snapped his mouth closed with the most hilarious shocked expression on his face, as though nobody had ever dared speak to him like that.Which, all things considered, nobody in his life probably ever _had,_ except maybe my Cousland.In the awkward, fuming silence that followed, I forced myself to close my eyes, to ground myself.Logic and rationality _had_ to prevail over emotion.It was my only method of survival.I could break down when I was alone, once I had identified the problem, found a solution, and went about fixing it.Freaking out would only make things _worse._ Time enough for that later. _Breathe.Just breathe._

Slowly but surely the ringing in my ears subsided, and the hysteria I had felt bubbling just beneath the surface began to dissipate. _Problem.Solution.Explain and solve._ I let out a long, slow exhale. 

_Thedas.Fifth Blight, since it’s Flynn Cousland and not an Inquisitor.But when during the Origins timeline?_

_He mentioned something about a king._

_Well, the king is either Cailan or Alistair.If it’s Cailan, you’ve been chucked right into the middle of the Battle of Ostagar._

_I really,_ **_really_ ** _don’t want to think about the implications of that._

_Neither do I.That’s not your only problem, however.How are you going to, uh, I don’t know, not die or get killed?Survive?_

_I have no small amount of knowledge about medieval life.Plus, I’ve played the game enough that I know the order things ought to happen and the consequences of certain actions.I can fake it ’til I make it!_

_One problem — this_ **_isn’t_ ** _a game.Things are already different; Fiona doesn’t even_ **_exist_ ** _in the game at_ **_all_ ** _.What’re you going to do if things go rogue?_

_Well, I think it’s safe to say_ **_that’s_ ** _already happened._

Unfortunately, Flynn Cousland apparently lacked the capacity to stay silent for very long.

“Do you have _any_ sodding idea what I have been through, Fiona?I thought you were dead, then I was forced to leave mother and father at Highever, to _die,_ after seeing what I believed to be your dead body along with Oriana and Oren, conscripted into being a Grey Warden _against my will_ …you have _no right_ to talk to me like that, not after…”He took a breath.“How _dare_ you…you do not get to speak to me in that manner.I am your _brother_ , for Andraste’s sake and you just —”

The only thing that I could say was a terribly bitchy: “You aren’t my fucking dad.”

“Don’t think this discussion is over, Fiona,” Flynn snapped.I huffed and rolled my eyes.It was the only response I felt that I had the energy to dignify him with since whatever we were having could hardly be classified as a discussion.I felt weirdly victimized; the whole thing could have easily been explained if he would have given me half a second to speak.But then again, how _could_ I explain myself?My clothes alone were alien compared to his, let alone my manner of speech.And I couldn’t exactly say _Hey, I know I look exactly like your dead twin sister but I promise I’m not her.I’m actually from a completely different dimension/planet/time/I don’t even know, and I only_ ** _look_** _like your sister, but in my world, you look like my brother who is also dead_. _I touched this magic necklace and poof!Here I am!_ Yeah, that sounded like a sure-fire way to get myself killed.Or whatever the Thedosian equivalent to ‘committed’ was.Probably killed, given that their first thought would likely be something along the lines of: “Yikes!An abomination!”I remembered the mistrust of anything that seemed like it could have come from the Fade and what Templars did to people they thought were possessed.For the record, I didn’t ever want to be put down for a good ole smiting.

“I’ve business to attend to with the king; we shall speak of this when I return,” he rose from the ground with a look that was clearly _disapproving sibling turned unwitting father_.Holy balls, he was annoying.

“Oh _, joy_.I look forward to it, then.”I couldn’t help myself. My mother always said my mouth would get me into trouble one day. 

He turned on his heel and stalked off, nearly slamming into Wynne as she entered the tent.I recognized the tingle of familiarity at the back of my neck at the sight of her for what it was now.She was somehow more well…more…than she was in game, more motherly and gentle, and yet with an aura that exuded power. 

“Is everything alright?” she handed over the bowl of broth, as well as half a loaf of bread wrapped in cloth.I shrugged.The old mage settled down beside me, her eyes peering into mine.I felt distinctly uncomfortable as the subject of that unwavering gaze, so I unwrapped my bread and dipped it in the broth.It was slightly stale, but the beef broth made it bearable.At any rate, it would fill me faster than just broth alone.I was suddenly painfully aware of just how hungry I was.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” the concern was genuine and it made me feel…dirty, somehow.Dirty I could handle, however.I wasn’t sure I could handle whatever I was feeling in regards to Flynn.Mostly I just felt annoyed.But it also _hurt_.Everything…all of this…it was _too_ real.I took another bite of broth, swirling it around to get a good mouthful of the strong flavors of garlic and celery and beef, to distract myself from how out-of-body I was feeling. 

“I’m fine,” I lied. 

She looked like she didn’t believe me.I dipped the bread in the broth again and took a large bite to keep myself from sticking my foot in my mouth again and pissing off someone else.I chewed until it turned to nothing but saliva and mush before swallowing.“Alright, no, I’m not fine.”

“Forgive me, but I did overhear part of that dispute.I do not doubt that you have been through a great deal yourself, child, but you are not the only one to have suffered.Your brother was near inconsolable when he found you in the Wilds.I cannot blame him; your injuries were not dire, but they were more than a mere scratch.You did not wake for three days.He feared he had lost you all over again.”

I had forgotten how good Wynne was at making someone feel guilty for something they could do fuck all about.I _yearned_ to correct her, to protest that Flynn was certainly _not_ my brother.What good would it do, though?Would anyone listen?But…perhaps she did have a point.It wasn’t Flynn’s fault I was a human train wreck stuck somewhere with no idea why or how I’d gotten there.If anything, I ought to be blaming the owner of the metal wolf’s head currently resting in my pocket.If I was in Thedas, I knew precisely which hobo apostate elf deserved to be the subject of my ire. 

I bit my lip and refused to meet Wynne’s gaze, instead staring down at the bowl of brown that was beginning to lose some of the heat that had helped to warm my belly.The food, at the very least, had helped me to stop being so goddamn hangry, which did more for my overall mood than one might think.I was still pissed off about my overall situation.I needed to somehow contact my parents; I couldn’t even begin to imagine my mother getting the call from the university that I’d gone missing, all of my belongings and my end of term report left in the archives with no trace of _me_ anywhere.The broth seemed to churn in my stomach at the thought.I stuck the hunk of bread into the remainder of the broth to soak it up and then set the food down on the ground beside my bedroll.I reached into my other pocket, searching for my phone, before I realized that it wouldn’t be with me because I had left it and my earbuds beside my laptop on the table I’d been working at.Mother _fucker_.

_Bet the calling rates from a world that isn’t supposed to exist are a real bitch._

Not having my phone made me feel naked and afraid.It had been like a fifth limb since Liam had died; having no instantaneous communication with anyone now…well, it made me squirm.I’d just have to hope that my parents would forgive me when I got back. 

_If you get back._

The second the thought floated across my mind, I lost my appetite only for it to be replaced by homesickness.I’d never really been alone before.At the university, I had friends and professors, people who I knew and who knew me.I’d been lonely since Liam had died, but I’d never been so totally isolated.Here, I was a stranger in a strange land, completely and utterly alone for the first time in my life.Tears began to well in my eyes.I could very well never see my mom or dad again.It would be like they had died and I could do fuck all about it. 

_You can’t think about that right now._

_Please tell me how to stop thinking then.Oh wait, you fucking can’t._

_Think about something else, then.Like what you’re going to do about the fact that every person you’ve met seems to think you’re someone you’re not._

“Child?” Wynne’s voice broke through my thoughts.I blinked and felt a tear slide down my cheek.I wiped it away but I knew she saw it.The look of pity on her face said it all.

“I’m fine.”I was starting to sound like a broken record.“Thanks for the broth, Wynne.It definitely made me feel better.”

“You are welcome, dear.While you were sleeping, I also brought you some fresh clothes that I believe shall fit you well enough.Your own are soiled and you might find them a bit too cold for the southern climate,” she gestured at the foot of my bedroll where a small pile of cloth was neatly folded.“Do you need any help changing at all?”

I rose from where I’d been sitting cross-legged and did some stretching, thankful for the distraction from my depressing as hell thoughts.It was certainly cooler outside of the mound of blankets and furs I’d been buried under.I shuddered to think what the weather was like outside.Nothing hurt when I twisted and bent this way and that, however.Whatever they had done to me seemed to have done the trick.I distinctly remembered having what felt like at _least_ two bruised ribs after careening down that hill.

“I think I’ll be alright,” I reassured her. 

“Very well,” she gave me a small smile.“If you need anything, you need only ask.”

Goosebumps rose on my skin as she lifted the tent flap to leave and I got hit by a gust of frigid air.I dug the troublesome trinket out of my pocket and tied it around my neck.The leather the pendant hung on would need replacing before it broke; I’d be pissed if I lost what could have been my only ticket out of whatever fresh hell I’d been shoved into.I was accepting the fact that I might be in Thedas too easily for my own liking, but given the lack of other alternatives, I decided to roll with it.I mean, what other choice did I have?

I unfolded the garments that Wynne had brought me when I’d been conked out.A simple linen shift, smallclothes and a breast band, and a plain wool dress that was dyed a rather simple grey.There was a belt underneath the clothing and a pair of worn leather boots as well.I shimmied out of my t-shirt and jeans; I had no idea what they had done with my sneakers.I was reluctant to part with my bra and panties, though.They hadn’t exactly been cheap when I bought them, and it was my favorite set, but I could feel the underwire where it had snapped in half when I fell and I knew there was no saving it.With a sad sigh, I undid the clasp to my bra and took off my underwear. 

I hadn’t really thought about it when I’d been dressed, but now that I was in my nuddy-pants, I actually _felt_ dirty.Wynne said I’d been out of it for three days.I’d never gone that long without a shower in my _life_.I lifted up one arm and took a sniff.Yeah. _Definitely_ needed to freshen up after three days of being unconscious.I wished I could have bathed before I put clean clothes on but I didn’t think there was such a thing as a shower in Thedas.If there were, it would probably only exist in Orlais. _Ughhhhh._

The breast band took some maneuvering to figure out.The fabric kept wanting to twist up on me and it certainly didn’t look that great once I did get it on.I had a serious case of the uniboob.   _Double ughhhhh_.The rest, though, was fairly simple; there was no lacing on the dress, and I wrapped the ring belt around my waist to give me some semblance of a figure.Some of the cold began to melt from my bones as the wool started doing its job.There was a bit of a draft around my ankles where the dress was too short, but it was an annoyance that I had gotten used to a long time ago.None of my pants ever quite were long enough.

I made a half-assed attempt at sorting my hair; I knew it must have looked wild after everything, but that was always a losing battle.I straightened my spine, took a deep breath, and stepped out into what I now believed to be Thedas.

Wynne was nowhere in sight.I could feel the cold really biting at my exposed skin now; it wouldn’t have been so bad if there hadn’t been such a brisk breeze, and I knew the temperature would continue to fall into the night.It was sometime in the evening, and the tent I had been occupying was in the middle of a gigantic ruin, its crumbling spires and arches silhouetted black against the bright colors of the sunset.The sight was breathtaking.Once again, I got the same sense that I had set foot somewhere ancient and holy that I most certainly did not belong. 

I was standing in what could have either been a courtyard or a great hall once upon a time. There were several tents like the one I’d emerged from, some larger, most smaller, all shoved this way and that way, a certified city of oiled cloth and leather.Trees and shrubbery dotted the campsite, nature’s attempt to take back the stone.An utter cacophony surrounded me:innumerable conversations, the barks and yelps of hounds, the clash of steel on steel, the crackle of several fires, birds squawking, yelling…there were noises that I couldn’t even identify, so muddled were they by everything else echoing off the old stone.The din was welcome after the silence of the forest.At least here I wasn’t the only intruder.To my right was a set of worn stone steps leading up to another part of the ruin.To my left, the rest of the camp expanded in the courtyard around a large, blazing bonfire.It was much larger than the gameplay had made it appear, but I’d know the desiccated remains of the old Tevinter fortress anywhere. _Ostagar_.I felt a sliver of unease slip down my spine.My suspicion had been confirmed.I had hoped, rather idiotically, that perhaps I’d been dropped into this world post-Ostagar, while the Warden was traveling or something.Ostagar I didn’t have a plan for.Everything else I could improvise, but Ostagar…

I could see it as plainly as if I had the XBOX and my TV right in front of me: the darkspawn horde, charging the Fereldan army and the Wardens; Loghain, abandoning the field; Cailan, his body crushed in the fist of an ogre.Darkspawn rushing the Tower of Ishal. 

My heart began to hammer in my chest. _Please, please don’t let it be tonight._ I tried to keep the panic off of my face but I couldn’t stop worrying my lip between my teeth.Should I try to interfere?What would happen if I did?More to the point, what could I even _say_ that might get Cailan to get his head out of his Warden-loving ass and _listen_?I had never really blamed Loghain for quitting the field of battle; why send innocent men to the slaughter if you can _do_ something about it?Even he had admitted to trying to talk Cailan out of it and he wouldn’t listen.So what could _I_ do?What power did some nerdy-ass girl have compared to a king or a teryn?If I interfered, what did that mean for this world?Was everything going to go as it did in-game?Any and everything could be different; nothing was for certain. _This_ wasn’t a game.I could die. _Innocent people_ could die. 

I wandered without direction, lost in my own head, until I realized my feet had carried me to the kennels.The barks and yelps had tripled in volume at my approach.I smiled to myself. _Mabari_.The quest that had involved bringing back a flower from the Korcari Wilds to heal one of the war hounds always made me stupidly happy, and I had always wanted a mabari of my own.I fucking loved dogs.One of them bounded out of its kennel, stump of a tail wagging so hard its ass shook, jumping up on the makeshift pen to let out a soft _whoof_ in my face.I laughed.I reached out a hand, gently and slowly, so as not to scare him.He sniffed it, getting used to my scent, before a big, slobbery tongue reached out and covered it in dog spit.I laughed again and scratched his ears with both hands.His big head rubbed against my palm as his eyes drifted shut in contentment.The stumpy tail was still wagging so fiercely that his entire _body_ was shaking and I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face.It was just _cute_. 

“Who’s a good boy?” I cooed, scratching under his chin as that tongue lolled out of his massive mouth.

“I would say that I am, buuut…I’ve got a feeling you were talking to the dog,” a voice behind me answered. 

“Jesus fucking _Christ_ ,” I yelped, startling my new furry friend as I spun around, hand clutching at my chest. 

The intruder gave me a sheepish smile _._ All of the chill in the air suddenly disappeared as my entire body got very, very hot.I could feel the color rising up the back of my neck and across my cheeks, effectively turning me into a freckly tomato. _I take back what I said about hoping the battle wasn’t tonight; I’d rather face the darkspawn horde single-handedly than be right here, right now._

“I don’t know which I should apologize for first: the brilliantly bad joke or the scare.”

I didn’t know which was worse: his voice, his body, or his face.Sweet mother Mary, I was doomed.I should have said something sexy and alluring, something like “Oh, I _bet_ you’re a good boy” with all the right inflections and a suggestive hip jut.But seeing as I lacked the capacity to feign being a normal human being, all I could do was gawk and manage a sort of odd squeak.

_Oh, hell’s bells._


	4. Speechless.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuff happens. Oh, and things. Things happen too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon Alistair at standing approximately 6’5”-6’6” and Lissa at around 5’11”. A big shoutout to everyone who has left me kudos, comments, and bookmarked this story in the interim between this update and the last! You guys are the best! I really struggled with both real life and writing this chapter, but I hope you enjoy! Happy reading!

I had always made it a point in all of my playthroughs of the _Dragon Age_ series to romance every character at _least_ once.Alistair Theirin, however, was a habit I _definitely_ could not kick.Close behind him were Zevran and Isabela.Not only that, but he was one of my absolute favorite characters.Standing here, having the piss very nearly literally scared out of me by Alistair in the flesh…it was nearly more than my mind, stretched paper thin from everything that had happened to me since I crashed gracelessly into the Korcari Wilds, could take.I backed away from the man in front of me until my heels hit the wall of the kennels, my hands trembling.The mabari I’d befriended let out a soft whine as if sensing my distress and _booped_ my shoulder gently with his nose.I swallowed.The realization that Alistair Theirin was actually, properly real was quite possibly more jarring than the whole Flynn debacle was. 

For one, behind a computer screen, I could have never realized how fucking _huge_ he actually was.I had never been short, not by any means, and I was right under six feet tall myself, and fairly thin.Most of the men I knew were around the same height as me, frequently shorter than me, and rarely ever taller.Even Liam and I were within _fractions_ of an inch of each other, with him holding the title of Tallest Fletcher Sibling.He always teased me about being the little sister, both in height and being born a whole minute and a half later than he was.From a distance, though, we were exactly the same.I had never felt so completely and utterly _dwarfed_ by a man before.Alistair had a good half a foot on me _at least._ That and his build, from years of training with sword and shield and as a templar, made me look and feel like a fucking piss ant before a human’s shoe.He was intimidating enough, dressed as he was in the simple shirt and breeches that I was sure he must have worn under his armor; I couldn’t even _begin_ to fathom the sight of him in his customary full plate and covered in the gore from a battle.

I could see why Duncan would have wanted him for the Grey Wardens even without his tragic backstory and hatred for the life he’d been forced into with the Chantry.If I was an ogre who happened to come face to face with him in full armor on the field of battle, I’d tuck tail and run my happy ass back to the Deep Roads.A thrill of terror slipped down my spine but I quickly told it to fuck off.It was _Alistair_.If he wanted me dead, he could have probably snapped my neck with his bare hands just as easily as he told bad jokes.I was suddenly _really goddamn_ **_thankful_** he was more prone to the jokes.

For another, he was easily the most attractive man I had ever laid eyes on.The game had _nothing_ on real life.I knew some fairly attractive men, myself, but none of them held a candle to the man who’d now come to stand beside me at the gate rather than across from me.He looked uncomfortable; who could blame him?I had, for the better half of what felt like an _eternity,_ been just _staring_ at him.He probably thought he’d offended me.Or worse, that I was a complete and utter idiot.Granted, he wouldn’t have been wrong on that count.

_Ugh, fuck me sideways. I can’t do this._

_Imagine him fucking you sideways…_

_You need to have some goddamn chill.The romance you played through was a video game, a story.This is a real, actual fucking person.Never mind if he makes you horny as all sin; he’s a_ **_real fucking person_ ** _and you have literally_ **_no_ ** _right to be thinking those thoughts.You don’t even_ **_know_ ** _him; for all you know, in real life, he’s a right git._

It was hard to force myself to listen to logic.I didn’t know what _this_ world was really like; I barely had my bearings, but fuck if I knew the nuances of the Thedas I’d fallen into.My concern had to be figuring out how best to stay alive to get home.Relationships, romantic or otherwise, would only serve as a complication that I did not have the luxury to pursue.

I let out a small, shaky laugh and turned back around to face the carousing hounds, carefully avoiding Alistair’s gaze.Another mabari in the kennel was chomping lazily on a bone, while the one I’d been petting was looking back and forth between me and Alistair like he was enjoying a tennis match.I gave him more ear scritches, watching as his tongue lolled happily out of his mouth and his eyes closed in what must have been pure doggy bliss.

“You’re fine,” I finally broke the awkward silence that had descended upon both of us.The words came out far quieter than I meant them to.I cleared my throat to try again. “I mean…it’s fine.Joke, scare, you—it’s all fine.”

“Oh, good.You had me worried for a second there, with the whole _not talking_ bit.I do wonder, though, was the joke so horribly bad or so amazingly _good_ that it rendered you utterly _speechless_?” 

His smile was audible.I didn’t have to look at him to know he was grinning.My muscles betrayed me as I felt the corners of my lips quirk upward in a smile to reciprocate the one I knew was plastered to his own face. _Lissa, you utter fucking trash bin._ ** _Stop that._**

He probably thought I was either a frigid bitch or a complete dunce while I stood there, internally arguing with myself.But I needed to make a getaway; if I didn’t, I was going to humiliate myself even further.I forced my facial features into a carefully neutral expression even though the smile still threatened to show itself.The blush on my cheeks and neck, however, were a horribly obvious reminder of how flustered I was.Even through the brisk night air, I could practically _feel_ the heat radiating off of him.Was that a side-effect of the darkspawn blood and being a Warden?Or was I just imagining things because _I_ was the one who was about to fucking spontaneously combust because I really, _really_ didn’t want to be trapped alone with Alistair Theirin in what I wasn’t so sure wasn’t a weird sort of coma dream.I needed to get my _bearings_ , to find out when in the timeline of the events of _Origins_ I had been plonked, not fantasize about impressing him and through some divine miracle tumbling into his bed.

“You know, I rather think he likes you,” Alistair mercifully broke the silence.He offered his hand to the dog I was petting, who stopped rubbing his face against my palm to give Alistair’s large hand a nudge with his wet nose. 

“I don’t know; I just hope I didn’t make a _horribly_ shit first impression,” the words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. _Fucking fuckity fuck._ He snorted in wry amusement.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you.I mean, it might take a _lot_ of groveling and no small amount of bribery involving cheese, but I think he may come ‘round eventually.”

I couldn’t help it; _I_ laughed.

_Stop flirting with him, damn you._

“I suppose I ought to introduce myself, then — Alistair Theirin, Grey Warden.”He held out the hand that the mabari had licked just seconds ago for me to shake.I could feel those hazel eyes studying my face as I stared at the freckled hand offered to me.I didn’t trust myself enough to take it.I looked up to catch him staring, much in the same way as I had been staring at him, his brow crinkled.“Hang on…have we met before?”

_Yeah, but only in a video game where you were fucking my Grey Warden._

“Um…I don’t think so.” _Good.Normal, sort of curt but not rude answer.Good girl._

“I _do_ know who you are; you’re Flynn’s sister, aren’t you?I should have recognized you sooner; you look just like him,” he paused, then seemed to think about what he said.He winced and closed the proffered hand into a fist, dropping it to his side.“Not that I think you look like a man; you are _definitely_ a woman.Not that I’m some sort of drunken, drooling lecher either, but I only meant that, well, it’s obvious you two are related.Maker’s breath, I’m really putting my foot in it, aren’t I?”

He was _so_ awkward and adorable that I wanted to laugh.I wanted to take his hand and tell him it was fine, that I was the only person he needed to worry about making a fool out of themselves.But mostly, I wanted to get the hell out of there.I couldn’t take one more fucking _thing_ piling up on top of the shit I was already in.I wanted an eternity to sit and get to talk with him and just get to know the _living, breathing, real version of him_ , but I needed to find Flynn, to tell him that _I wasn’t Fiona goddamn Cousland_.I needed to figure out when the charge against the bulk of the horde was going to take place so I could keep my scrawny ass _alive_ long enough to try and find a way back home.I needed to find my sneakers, to take a pee, to sleep a million years and to just be _left the fuck alone_ so I could break down into hysterics when no-one was watching.I needed a drink.I needed air that didn’t smell like pine trees and Alistair’s sweat and dog shit and woodsmoke. 

“I need to go,” I told him brusquely, shoveling past him to make my way back to the tent I’d woken up in.A surge of guilt washed over me as I looked back to see him standing there, watching me walk away with a confused and slightly dejected expression on his face.He hadn’t done anything to me to warrant my rudeness.But I couldn’t let myself get attached to anyone or anything here.As wonderful as it would have been to pick his brain, to get to know the _real_ him, I _couldn’t._ I knew myself well enough to know that I would get attached.I planned to go back home as soon as I could figure out how Solas’ pendant worked, if this all turned out to be real and _not_ a lucid dream.Attachments would only complicate my leaving.I had no place in this world with these people and I had played through enough hours of _Dragon Age_ to know that I was most certainly _not_ Alistair’s type.He was a real person whose feelings could not be manipulated through the right dialogue options and presents.It didn’t mean it didn’t suck, though, because in any other circumstances I’d have given my left tit to have the chance to become even just his friend. 

If I had been hoping for the solace of an empty tent so I could be alone to be miserable, I was _so_ sorely mistaken.Flynn was waiting for me, pacing in between the other bedrolls and carefully trying not to spill the remnants of the bowl of cold broth I’d left behind.I cursed whatever deity was getting a chuckle out of my abject misery.I’d have tried to sneak away, back to the kennels and the disaster that was my previous conversation with Alistair, but Flynn had seen me open the flap of the tent.So much for hoping his meeting with the king would take up enough time for me to figure out how to avoid having to talk to the prat ever again.

I sighed and ducked inside.It was much darker both outside and within the tent than when I had left after our first spat, but someone — I assumed it was him — had taken the liberty of lighting several candles, filling the tent with dim, flickering light.I tried to read the expression on his face and found I couldn’t.He wasn’t like Liam in that respect.

“So,” I started, rocking back and forth from my heels to my toes like a child waiting to get berated by her mother.Flynn scowled.I bit my lip and threw up my hands with a sigh.“I’m sorry I was a bitch to you.I’m tired, emotionally drained, and more than a little bit confused.So.I’m sorry.”I mentally added _I guess_ , because while I didn’t exactly feel too terribly repentant, I did feel slightly guilty for the way I’d spoken to him.Wynne was right; the Cousland origin story put the Warden through a ton of shit, and from the harrowed look in Flynn’s eyes, he’d seen more than his fair share of nightmares since that disastrous night at Highever when Arl Howe betrayed his family.Waking up in a different world with a cheeky magic necklace was a cake walk compared to watching almost everyone he’d ever known and loved brutally massacred before his very eyes.He seemed to slump a little after I apologized, his shoulders relaxing as the scowl dissolved into bone-deep weariness.

“I must apologize to you as well—”

“Seriously,” I interrupted him.“Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“ _Don’t worry about it_ ,” I reiterated.He ran a hand through his hair and gave me a small, sad smile. 

He looked so completely defeated that, even though he wasn’t my brother, it still hurt to see the look on his face.I crossed over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck like I used to do to Liam.Flynn returned the embrace, settling his head atop mine as easily as he could, with us being so closely matched in height.

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered.“I saw the body.Your eyes were still open, staring up at me but with no life in them.Mother…the sight of you and Oriana and little Oren…I will never forget it.I thought you _died_.”

_In all honesty, man, I’m not altogether sure that I haven’t._

“How did you escape Highever?” 

There was the question I was hoping to avoid having to answer for just a little longer.I needed more answers before I came up with a viable story, answers that I didn’t fucking _have_ because of _course_ nothing could go the way I needed it to.I had no idea what I was supposed to do; I was a shit liar.My poker face was less than terrible.The only thing I knew for sure was that for a lie to be believable it had to be as close to the truth as possible.But should I keep up the charade of being Fiona Cousland?Someone was bound to find out, and given the fact that Arl Howe wanted every last Cousland dead…I was actually probably safer just being _me_.That wasn’t saying much, really, because I was about as useful at surviving as a snowman in July.I couldn’t fight, didn’t know the local flora and what was safe to consume, couldn’t start a fire without a goddamn zippo lighter.The fact that I bore such a strong resemblance to Fiona was certainly bound to land me in a hotbed of trouble.Trouble that would probably involve cries of “Kill the abomination” or “HOLY FUCK A DEMON” swiftly followed by the separation of my head from my shoulders.I desperately wished for some sort of divine providence to tell me the wisest course of action.

Flynn let me go to take me by the shoulders, smoothing his thumbs over the seams in the dress I wore.We stayed like that long enough that I began to grow uncomfortable under his scrutiny.Surely, if he looked closely enough, he would see the differences in my face compared to his sister’s just as I had seen the differences in his compared to the memories of Liam.I fidgeted with my sleeve, my nerves beginning to get the better of me.I needed _time_ to figure out what my cover story was.

“Fi?”

My hands trembled.I took a deep breath to try and calm my growing nerves.I couldn’t meet his eyes.When I didn’t immediately answer him, his grip on my shoulders tightened.

“I saw your corpse at Highever.I watched everyone and everything I have ever loved be viciously ripped away from me by Arl Howe.I was forced into conscription against my will, _dragged away from my home by force_ when it was my _duty_ to give my life in defense of Highever.No-one has seen Fergus since he left Highever, and then, when I had begun to be resigned to losing my entire family, you fell off of an embankment to land at my feet, battered and bruised but _alive_.And then you didn’t wake for days.I watched you lay there, thin and pale and looking like death itself as your body tried to heal and I was _so afraid_ you would never come back that…” he paused, inhaling, his nostrils flaring.“I saw you.Dead.And what I want to know is how the _hell_ you managed to somehow come back to life.”

_Goddammit, Lissa, you had better come up with something pretty fucking outstanding to save your own ass right about now._ “I…uh…I don’t know?”

There.Noncommittal, not admitting to whether or not I was or wasn’t Fiona Cousland or whether or not I did or didn’t escape from Highever.A half-assed answer was better than none.It also wasn’t a complete lie.I didn’t know the specifics of how I’d ended up in Thedas other than the pesky necklace tied around my neck.I felt him release me and take a step back.

"That was precisely the wrong answer.”He sounded disappointed, like he’d been hoping for something different, hoping for some answers.If I had had them, I would have gladly supplied them.Or, rather, those that I didn’t think would get me killed, anyway.

Flynn let out a heavy, resigned sigh, his eyes closing as he tilted his head.The universal sign of prayer or self-reflection.His lips moved as he prayed, and I caught some of his words. _Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just._ I swallowed the dread that seemed to tighten my throat.He let out another sigh, his hand drifting to the pommel of his sword.He hesitated but a moment before drawing it, the tip of his blade resting against the skin of my throat.Gooseflesh rose on my arms and I dared not to inhale too deeply lest I be shish kebob’bed by my brother’s doppelgänger.It seemed I didn’t need to worry about telling him I wasn’t Fiona Cousland.Flynn already knew.


	5. Confession.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flynn has a sense of humour *gasp*

I could feel the panic building in my chest, but I had to concentrate on keeping my breathing even to prevent myself from being skewered.The steel was as cold as winter against my flesh.I squared my shoulders and tried to at the very least _look_ strong, despite the fact that I had started crying.I didn’t want to die.My parents shouldn’t have to lose _another child_ because of my own stupidity.If Flynn killed me, I would be the cause of more grief for what was left of my family.What would my mom do, having already lost Liam, knowing that her daughter was never going to come home?Would she think I ran away when she came to pick me up that night?Would she think I had purposefully abandoned her?And my dad, in his ridiculous polos and khakis, working too late to cope with the loss of his son.What would he do when I never came home?God, I felt so _useless._ It was one thing to jokingly admit the feeling of being utterly incapable to yourself; it was quite another to be physically rendered absolutely helpless.Tears of frustration began to roll down my cheeks and I cursed my habit of crying when I got mad or irritated.I couldn’t do anything to save Liam, but by God, I was going to fight tooth and nail to save myself, even if it was a fight I was doomed to lose.Anger was good; anger made me strong, and fear would keep me from being stupid.

“You are going to sit down and tell me exactly _who_ and _what_ you are, and how you came to be here,” his tone brokered no argument as he gestured for me to sit with the point of his sword.I raised my chin at him and quirked an eyebrow. 

He sighed and rolled his eyes.“Please?” he snarked.

I snorted. _Dickschnitzel._ I sat, though, to keep from pissing him off.After all, he had said please.Not that he sounded like he particularly _meant_ it, but it was enough like something either myself or Liam would do that I definitely felt _less_ threatened.Part of me actually wanted to laugh.Had he really meant to lob my head off, he probably would have had backup.There was also a look in his eyes that told me he probably _didn’t_ intend to kill me, not just yet anyway, unless I managed to piss him off to the point where he became homicidal.Which, given the fact that we got on so _famously_ the last time we had a (one-sided, mind you) conversation with each other and my complete and utter gift for getting under peoples’ skin, wasn’t unlikely.I was a Fletcher, after all.I came by it honest.The ground was cold and hard, the grass dry and crunchy beneath my hands, and the cold seeped up through my few layers in no time, freezing my ass to numbness within seconds.

“I already told you, _I don’t fucking know_ ,” I sniffed to clear some of the snot plugging up my nose from crying and pursed my lips. 

“You do not know who and what you are?Or you do not know how you managed to survive rogue bands of darkspawn in the Korcari Wilds before myself and my companions found you?” he snipped.I scowled up at him, my temper flaring again.I wanted to know precisely when and how he’d realized I wasn’t Fiona.Had he and his sister been as in-tune with each other as Liam and I had been?It wasn’t impossible.It suddenly dawned on me how many times he had alluded to the fact that he had seen “my” supposedly dead body.Idiot must have suspected _something_ the whole time.Granted…given Thedas’ lore and what I remembered from the games, it wasn’t altogether unlikely he feared I was some sort of desire demon, brought forth from the other side of the Veil to possess his sister or, at the very least, disguise myself as her.It mirrored my own previous lines of thought regarding who _he_ was before I realized where I had been dumped.

“I know _who_ I am,” I glared at him.“I’m Lissa Fletcher.I know _what_ I am.I’m a fucking _person_ , or at least I was the last time I checked.If I’ve sprouted tentacles or horns somewhere I’m unaware of, please do be a dear and tell me.As to the how I got here bit, I told you the truth.I have _no damn clue_.I woke up in those woods.I would have thought the running and screaming and crying in terror from the darkspawn could have attested to that.”

_Maybe you shouldn’t sass the guy with the sword._

_Maybe the guy with the sword shouldn’t be such an utter fucking ass.It’s not like I can_ ** _do_** _anything; I’m defenseless.About the worst thing I can do is start reciting the more dull parts of_ A Letter on Virginity _at him and hope that I bore him to death with sexism and talk of piousness._

Flynn scowled at my smart remark.“So you are not even remotely aware as to how you ended up in the Wilds, dressed in a manner which I have never seen, wearing my sister’s face?”

I frowned at him.“Believe me, buddy, if I were, my ass wouldn’t still _be_ here.The last thing I remember was that I was in a…” I paused.What would the Thedosian equivalent of an archive be?A library?I was gonna go with library.“…library.Then _poof._ Trees.Darkspawn.Running, screaming, and _somehow_ I always end up on the business end of your sword.This face is, unfortunately, the one I was born with.” 

I ran a hand through my unkempt hair, scowling as it got tangled in the knots.I shook my hand loose and stretched my legs out, crossing them at the ankles.I probably should not have acted so blasé during what could have been the last conversation I ever had, but honestly, it should have been clear I wasn’t a threat.I was five feet eleven inches of unarmed, unarmored noodle.Seriously, what damage could I properly do?

“And your odd clothing?”

“I just woke up in them,” I fibbed.Well, it wasn’t an _outright_ lie.I _did_ wake up in them.They were just my own clothes from _my_ home.Not Thedas.Flynn seemed to ruminate on my answers for ages, not speaking, simply staring down the length of his blade to study my face.Those bottle-green eyes scrutinized me for what felt like _ages_ before he sheathed his sword.I let out a breath I did not realize I had been holding.He offered me his hand to help me up and I took it.He pulled me to my feet with little effort on his part; I couldn’t read his face, not half so well as I wished I could, and I wiped my cheeks off with the sleeve of my dress.

“Don’t mistake my faith in the truth of your words for my _trust_ ,” Flynn told me with a furrowed brow and a scowl. I tried not to roll my eyes at his tone.“You are not to leave my _sight_.Do you understand me, Lissa Fletcher?” 

“I don’t need a _babysitter_ ,” I quipped. 

“Perhaps not in your opinion, but I don’t know for certain that you are not some sort of unwitting spy, or an apostate, or any manner of things.You go _nowhere_ unescorted.Not to the privy, not to meals, not to sleep.You go nowhere and do nothing by yourself.I shall have someone to keep an eye on you when I’m not around or I am otherwise rendered incapable of doing the job myself.We shall maintain the ruse that you are my sister; I believe it will be safer for you within the confines of the camp to do so.Few people suspect that you are not Fiona, and only two of those people know for certain that you aren’t.The only glaring problems I foresee are your accent and your inability to keep your bloody mouth shut.”

“Wait, wait, hang on.You mean to tell me that I have to have a guard on me to go take a _pee_?I can’t go to sleep without a babysitter?And what do you mean by ‘my accent is a glaring problem’?” 

I remembered in the game — the first one, at least — many inhabitants of Thedas sounded either English, Scottish, Irish, American, or French.I didn’t think that my accent was _that_ big of a deal.Apparently, I was wrong.

“Well, you don’t exactly _sound_ _Fereldan_ ,” he snapped. “And you do not have to be so crass about the rest.I don’t trust you, Lissa.I know nothing about you save for what you told me.You will relieve yourself under guard, as I said.Eat under guard.Sleep under guard.Duncan, and the king, agree that this is the wisest course of action.Not only will you not arouse suspicion given that, for all intents and purposes, you are one of the only surviving members of the Cousland house and in dire need of protection from Rendon Howe’s spies, but I can keep others safe _from you_.”

“Hold on…the _king_?!”

“You really don’t believe that you could stumble into the woods outside of a fortified stronghold on the brink of battle and _not_ draw attention to yourself?That little meeting I attended was about _you_.You are lucky that Duncan believes it best to keep you close; Loghain was of the mind that it would serve us better to just kill you tonight while you slept after he had extracted what information that he could from you, lest you turn out to be an Orlesian spy.It was only because myself and Duncan spoke for you, assured him that you were in fact Fiona, that you are alive to continue to make a fool of yourself.”

I could only gape at him, rendered completely speechless for the first time in my life. 

“King Cailan trusts the Grey Wardens, and Duncan above all the others.I spoke for you because I had hoped, despite Duncan’s assurance that you were not my sister, that the Maker had chosen to answer my prayers that she had survived,” some of the irritation had seeped out of his voice, and now he just sounded tired, far more weary than anyone our age had any right to be.He sighed and ran a hand through his messy curls, a flicker of grief marring his face for but a moment before it was gone.I just blinked at him, my mouth open like a fish out of water.He rolled his eyes and dropped his hand to his side, quirking an eyebrow at me and whatever sorrow that had been on his face before vanished behind a mask of nonchalance.“You know, if you aren’t exceedingly careful, your face may end up stuck in that expression until your final days.”

_Ha, ha._ I snapped my mouth shut, scowling at him as intensely as I could manage while trying not to be impressed that Mr. High and Mighty had a sense of humor. 

“But back to the problem of your accent.I suspect you are a poor actress; most people won’t question you but you still need to be able to fool Loghain.If any of Howe’s men are in the camp, or if Loghain thinks you’re up to no good, you’re dead.Can you fake it, then?Put on a mummer’s farce until the battle is done and the camp has moved on to the next?”

I swallowed. _Shit, shit, shit.I can’t lie for shit._ I adopted my “best” fake-English accent and tried to mimic Flynn’s demeanor.“Well, brother-mine, I am uncertain, but I shall endeavor to try.”

He snorted, but his thinly veiled amusement quickly turned to concern.

“That…is the absolute _worst_ impression of a Fereldan accent I have _ever_ heard.Perhaps I should have _two_ people keeping watch over you; Maker-knows you shall need it.”

I frowned at him again, bristling with irritation and frustration.I felt like crying again; it wasn’t like I had _asked_ for _any_ of this.It was too much, all of it.“You know, I don’t really know what you _want_ from me,” I snarled at him, wrapping my arms around myself and turning my head so he wouldn’t see the tears fall.I was _trying_ , goddammit. 

It was his turn to frown.“I _want_ you to _try_ not to get yourself killed, to _blend in._ But apparently it seems I ask for the impossible,” he snapped.“I do this not because I particularly _care_ about you, but you look enough like my sister that I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to be carelessly murdered for your own ignorance!You seem to disregard how dire your situation truly is.I do not know where you are from, but I _know_ you are not Fereldan.It will be obvious to Loghain that you are not Fereldan.That man loves his country with a passion that borders on madness, and loathes Orlais with a fervor to match.He _will_ know you are not my sister the moment you open that big mouth of yours, and I swear to Andraste that…” he stopped, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.He was on the verge of shouting, I could tell from the tinge in his cheeks and the furrow in his brow.Liam did the same thing when he was angry.It was the last straw that finally made the tears begin to fall again.

“I’m not an idiot, you know,” I told him quietly, refusing to meet his eyes.“I _know_ that I’m in danger.Darkspawn, rapists, disease…I’m not exactly graceful either.I could trip and fall and snap my neck.I could let my ‘big mouth’, as you put it, get away with me and end up skewered on someone’s sword.You might not trust me, but trust this: my mother and father have lost one child, and I’ll be _damned_ if they will lose another one.I’m not stupid — far from it.I’m well-educated, and while I might not know how to wield a sword or shoot a bow, I can get by.”

“I only meant —”

I cut him off, finally looking into his bright green eyes.“I _know_ what you _meant_.I’m not a good liar, far from it, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not a good liar and an even _worse_ actress.But don’t you fucking _dare_ for one second think that I don’t take my survival seriously.If putting on a _mummer’s farce_ is what it takes to keep myself alive long enough to get home, so be it.”

I paused, taking a deep breath and remembering every time I had ever pretended to be Hermione Granger growing up.

“From now on,” I told him, attempting to mimic her accent to the best of my ability.It felt foreign on my tongue, the vowels too oddly shaped, but I swallowed and started again.“From now on, I am Fiona Cousland.And fuck anyone who says otherwise.”

“That’s much better,” he told me with a nod of approval.There was a sadness in his eyes; I wondered if I sounded like her but before I could ask, he turned away.“Come; I must introduce you to your guard.I don’t believe you’ve met him before, but he was with me when I found you and it was he who Duncan nominated for the task.One of my fellow Grey Wardens by the name of Alistair; he has a terrible sense of humor and a penchant for sarcasm and antagonizing those around him.You should get along quite well.Wynne —”

I didn’t hear the rest of what he said.He was holding the tent flap open for me, still talking, but I stood rooted to the spot.Alistair Theirin was going to be my personal guard.While I ate.While I slept.And while _I took a fucking piss_. 

I could not believe my incredibly fucking _awful_ luck.I was going to have to take a shit with Alistair Theirin keeping guard.It seemed I would be given the opportunity to get to know the real flesh and blood person that I so desperately desired.Too bad it came with such a _shitty_ caveat.

One deep breath, then another, and some of the feeling returned to my limbs.Better to get the humiliation over with, to rip it off like a Band-Aid and deal with it head on than let it fester.I sighed and followed Flynn out of the tent, stepping out into the frigid night air, resigned to my fate.Because I still _really_ had to pee, and it seemed that my second impression was going to go about as well as my first.I was going to owe that man all of the cheese that money could buy before I left Thedas to make up for _this_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the filler chapter! The next one is the Battle of Ostagar, but I didn't want to combine these two otherwise we'd have the Neverending Chapter and nobody wants that! Thank you, as always, for the kudos and the comments! 
> 
> UPDATE 11/16: I HAVE NOT ABANDONED THIS STORY!! Things have been crazy IRL, between weddings, classes, and work but I'm about half through the next chapter. Thank you so much for your patience and ILY guys <3


	6. Rabbit-Heart Part One.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panic? Who's panicking? It's certainly not Lissa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to pelt me with rotten vegetables for taking so long LOL. Not gonna lie, I feel really bad about taking so long to update, especially because this chapter's mostly filler, but I had to chop it in two because, well, I didn't like it being all together. I'd also like to take a moment to thank everyone for your kudos and continued support! I've written some of the sequels as well, so that's also partly responsible for the delay. You guys are the best!

_“I look around but I can’t find you;  
_ _if only I could see your face.  
I start rushing towards the skyline.  
I wish that I could just be brave.  
_ _I must become a lion-hearted girl,  
_ _ready for a fight, before I make the final sacrifice.”_

**_-Florence + the Machine;; Rabbit Heart_ **

 

—————

 

“ _Fucking hell_ ,” I groaned.I could hear Flynn off to the side not trying one whit to stifle his laughter.My head, my ass, and my ribs all felt like I’d been trampled by a horse.Which, honestly, was not far off from the truth.I kept my eyes shut tight in a vain attempt to ease the pain; that one was _definitely_ going to leave a rather prominent bruise on my tailbone.And my stomach.And my head.And my everything. _Jesus fucking Christ_.A shadow blocked out the light from the sun and I chanced opening one eye to see Alistair looming above me, an apologetic expression on his face. 

_Just remember: you’re the one who asked for this_.

_Yeah, but I didn’t think it would_ **_hurt_ ** _this much._

_Maybe I ought to try something different.Something that doesn’t involve shield bashing and sharp knives._

_Daggers._

_Whatever._

He offered me a gloved hand and I took it, letting him pull me to my feet.I wobbled for a second before his arm wrapped around my waist to steady me. 

“Maker’s _breath_ , I am so sorry.”

“I wouldn’t be too worried about her well-being,” Flynn told him, crossing his arms as he approached us.He was smirking like the cat that ate the canary, the bastard.“Getting knocked on her arse is the only way she’ll learn.”

I shot him a glare before shoving Alistair’s arm off of me.My knees still felt slightly weak (and not just from getting the shit knocked out of me repeatedly), but goddammit, I was _not_ going to let Flynn have yet _another_ reason to accuse me of being helpless.Even if it were true, I was going to get strong enough to hold my own.I had to.My world…and holy balls did it feel weird to think of my _home_ in _that_ sort of context…had all sorts of things that could definitely kill me, but most of those were things I was _used_ to.Swords, dragons, darkspawn, angry ghosts-of-my-twin-brother, _goddamn bears everywhere you looked_ …yeah.Not exactly shit I was _used_ to.If I didn’t want to die, I needed to learn how to effectively stab things.

“You do realize,” I snapped.“That I’m a mouse getting trampled to death by a goddamn moose.”

They looked at each other in confusion before I threw the blunted daggers I’d been training with to the ground in irritation.Apparently moose were not a thing that Fereldans dealt with on the regular.“A nug trampled to death by a goddamn ogre.”

“I’m not sure whether or not I should be offended by that.” 

“I think you should; it does paint a less than favorable portrait of you,” Flynn snickered.I resisted the urge to aim a kick straight at his crotch.He had armor on; it’d have done more damage to my toes than his junk.Later, I promised myself.Later.

I stomped away from them to the fence where my water skin hung, craving a moment to myself.Three weeks.Three weeks, and still no sign of the darkspawn, save for more sleepless nights and agitation for the Grey Wardens as they crept ever nearer.Three weeks of waking up before dawn with no recollection of what had woken me, three weeks of being babysat both by my dead brother’s doppelgänger and Alistair.Three weeks of anxiety.Three weeks of insomnia and what felt like one hell of a case of jet lag.Three weeks of pretending to be someone I wasn’t, of speaking in an accent that didn’t belong to me.Three weeks of the same boring ass stew, of the same wool dress, of going absolutely batshit crazy.It had taken two and a half days for the cabin fever to set in, once the novelty of my immediate surroundings had worn off and I’d started my internal countdown to the battle.I didn’t have any particular timeframe to bear in mind, though, so it made counting down to Doomsday effectively useless.When I had played _Origins_ , I had been led to believe that the bulk of the darkspawn horde arrived within a _day_ of the Warden’s own arrival.In reality, the enemy seemed more the restlessness that had invaded Ostagar and steadily dwindling rations rather than thousands of darkspawn and a Blight.But it was coming.I knew it was.Flynn and Alistair had all but hinted at as much; the horde was close enough that they could damn near _smell it._ Their moods had been steadily dropping for the past five days.Even Alistair’s.Which was why, after four and a half days of driving both Alistair and Flynn to the brink of insanity with my inability to sit still after that first bout of cabin listlessness in, I asked if I could spar with them.I couldn’t very well read a _book_ at a genlock and hope it didn’t eat me alive; I had to _learn_. 

And it was going just _swimmingly_.I unstoppered the skin and took a long drink of sun-warmed water.Yet another thing I had to get used to — drinking damn near everything lukewarm.At least Ostagar was cold enough that most liquids stayed somewhat shy of tepid.I sighed.I felt like I was a hundred years old, the weariness a combination of circumstance and the piss-poor progress that was my training.

My ass _hurt_.It felt like my tailbone had been fractured, even though I doubted that was the case.Alistair was hardly putting his entire weight behind his attacks; I just lacked both strength and enough muscle mass to put up much of a fight.I was thin, but I lacked muscle tone.Flynn had wanted to train me as a dual-wield rogue, like Fiona, but so far, I was sucking major dick at it.I could barely land a single hit before they were deflected and I was eating dirt.And that was when I even managed to get _that_ far.I was starting to suspect that Alistair was _letting_ me land a hit or two every so often so I didn’t feel like the World’s Shittiest Rogue.It didn’t do too much to bolster my self-confidence.

I turned away from Liam and Alistair, the pair laughing loudly about something one of them had said.I narrowed my eyes.Sure, Grumpy Pants got on with Alistair _perfectly_ fine, and even had a bit of a sense of humor while he did it, but God-forbid he not be a complete dick to _me_.Oh, right.They were brothers-in-arms who’d both drank from the same blood-filled tainted goblet and suffered unfathomably shit luck.I was a suspicious probable-alien with a fucked up necklace from Fen’Harel himself who, for all intents and purposes, just plopped herself right out of the sky and into the woods.I had the unfathomable shit luck going for me, but lacked the necessary ingestion of darkspawn blood for Flynn to not regard me with suspicion when he thought no-one else was looking.Not that they knew that _I_ knew about that bit.I was supposed to be Flynn’s sister, who’d shown up _after_ the Joining, innocent and naive.I kicked at a rock in anger; I wasn’t sure why it felt so important that Flynn exhibit _some_ modicum of favor towards me. 

_It’s because he looks so much like Liam_ , the nasty little voice in the back of my head whispered.

_Yeah, well, my brother’s dead and his lookalike is about as amicable as a smelly old boot, so fuck off._

I forced myself to focus on something that hit a little less close to home, so, instead, I stared around at my surroundings, taking in the camp.Ostagar was alive and bustling around us.The ruin was almost like a giant beehive, with Cailan as its queen, buzzing with completely chaotic order that left my mind boggled. _Nothing like that good ol’ military efficiency_ , I snarked to myself.I huffed.I could spy the king’s tent easily through the sea of canvas; it was the largest, and clearly better made than the tents belonging to the mages or Wardens.Then came the sea of tents belonging to the mages.I’d been moved from the tent Wynne shared with several other women and into the one Flynn shared with Alistair and some other Grey Wardens.If anyone thought anything of a woman sharing a tent with half-a-dozen men, nobody said anything.I wasn’t the foremost authority on Thedosian morals, but it felt like my sleeping arrangements lacked a certain…well, public display of disagreement.But Thedas wasn’t feudal Europe, despite the innumerable similarities, and I seemed to recall a degree of nonchalance in regards to not only sexuality but, well, _sex_ from my own playthroughs of the game.Perhaps it was the Orlesians who were uptight about that sort of thing, not Fereldans.I sure as fuck didn’t know.They certainly had seemed the type in-game, with their masks and their weird doublespeak. 

I realized after several minutes had lapsed that I hadn’t heard any more laughter or smart comments about my lack of general prowess in combat.And, usually, Alistair would come over while I sulked and convince me to keep trying.It always worked.I corked my skin, draped it back over the fence post, and turned back to my wardens — I couldn’t help but snicker a little at the pun — to find that two had become just one.Alistair was nowhere to be found.I felt my foul mood plummet even further. 

But it was the look on Flynn’s face that had me trading sulkiness for concern.I lowered my voice, my fake accent dropping in spite of myself.“What is it?” 

Flynn didn’t speak immediately.When he didn’t bitch me out for dropping my accent, I knew it was something bad.Anxiety bubbled in my belly and the water I’d just drunk soured on my stomach.Quite honestly, I wanted to puke.

“The king has called a meeting.Alistair has gone ahead to answer Duncan’s summons; my presence shall also be required,” his frown deepened, a harsh line appearing between his brows as he seemed to ponder how best to relay this information.And then the awful scowl was gone, replaced by a resignation that was, somehow, even worse.“The scouts have spotted the bulk of the horde.”

I stood rooted to the spot.Maybe if I clicked my heels three times and recited “There’s no place like home” this nightmare would be over.But I knew that that wasn’t how life worked.Dread pooled in my belly at the knowledge that, sometime in the immediate future, I was most likely going to die.This wasn’t fair.I was supposed to find a way to get back home to my mom and dad.I was supposed to finish my stupid ass medieval lit paper, get rather mediocre grades on my finals, and force myself to hitch a smile on my face to get through the awkwardness that the holidays had now become.I was not supposed to be smack in the middle of a goddamn video game come to life, in the direct path of thousands and thousands of fucking _darkspawn_ looking to raze this world to the ground.I wanted to cry.I wanted to pummel Flynn with my fists and scream and piss myself all at the same time.Mostly, though, I just wanted to go _home_.

“Oh,” was all that I could manage, one squeaky syllable that somehow managed to encompass every ounce of hopelessness and helplessness in my body.Flynn’s face softened somewhat.

He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

“You have my word that you shall survive this,” he told me and I quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“Have you _met_ me?” I asked him, incredulity coloring my tone.“I mean, I sincerely doubt that if I come face-to-face with an ogre I’ll survive it.”

“Unless you have some as of yet unseen prowess with a weapon, I daresay you shan’t.Duncan and I both agree it would be for the best if you avoided the heat of the battle.Alistair and I are to be in the vanguard, fighting alongside the King Cailan at his behest.We believe it would be best for you to stay with the mages…” 

Whatever else he’d been about to say, he stopped mid-sentence at the look of abject horror on my face.I had next to no experience in terms of war and battle, but even I knew what fighting in the vanguard meant.The gruesome images from the Battle of Ostagar cutscene flashed in my mind: the bulk of the horde on the horizon, Cailan crushed to death in the fist of an ogre, the Warden and Alistair nearly overrun at the top of the Tower of Ishal…

_They weren’t supposed to be in the fucking vanguard.They can’t be in the fucking goddamn vanguard._

The familiar buzz of panic had returned to my ears.My heart was pounding out a frantic tattoo against my chest and I wondered, for a moment, if I wasn’t having a heart attack.It sure as shit felt like one.

_This isn’t how this is supposed to go. They’re supposed to go to the Tower of Ishal to light the beacon for Loghain’s forces, then Flem-Mythal-whoever the shit she really is saves them and takes them back to her hut.If they fight in the vanguard they die.Oh sweet fucking Jesus, they’re all going to die._

“I need to talk to Duncan,” I told Flynn.“ _Right now._ ”

“Were you not listening a moment ago?He is meeting with —”

“Pardon my fucking Orlesian,” I half-snarled.“But I don’t give a good goddamn _who_ he’s meeting with.This.Is. _Important_.”

I half-wished I had had a camera so that I could have taken a picture of Flynn’s face.


	7. Rabbit-Heart Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lissa fesses up. Sort of?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please pardon any mistakes etc; I edited this when I'd had one too many >.> Also, sorry about showing up four months late with an update.

 

_“And in the spring, I shed my skin_

_and it blows away with the changing winds._

_The waters turn from blue to red_

_as towards the sky, I offer it.”_

**_-Florence + the Machine;; Rabbit Heart_ **

 

—————

 

The day seemed to stand still.It was as if someone had slowed down time, though I knew that that certainly wasn’t the case.Not yet, anyway.For a lack of anything better to do, I’d taken to uprooting the dry, brown grass at my feet and ripping it into the smallest bits that I could manage, waiting for Duncan to be free from the war talks so that I could try and…well, I didn’t know what.Flynn wouldn’t let me burst in on the meeting with Cailan and Loghain and everyone else who was important; he said that whatever earth-shattering news that I had could wait until after, especially since I was trying to avoid drawing too much of Loghain’s attention. 

I hadn’t told Flynn what was so urgent; I was already on tenterhooks with the guy, and I didn’t want to make things worse for myself.But I honest-to-God didn’t have any idea _what_ I was going to tell Duncan to get him to change the battle plans last minute.

  _“Oh, hey there, Duncan. My name’s Lissa Fletcher and I’m really a college student from the United States of America but you don’t know what that is because it’s in a parallel universe or something to Thedas, and you’re nothing more than a fictional character in a video game.Oh, and I’m trying to convince you not to send Alistair into the vanguard because I may or may not have romanced him in said video game approximately eighty-seven times and I may or may not have seen a violent depiction of your death and I’m like, weirdly emotionally attached to you both for reasons that I can’t explain other than Alistair’s puppy dog eyes make me want to cream my panties and you’re a total DILF._ ”

 Haha, yeah, absolutely _not_.That seemed like the most sure-fire way to break the three week streak of staying alive that I had going.I snarled in frustration, ripping a blade of dead grass with such ferocity that it actually hurt my fingers.I hated this.I had to stay here, outside, out of hearing range from the tent, unable to do anything but wait, while time ticked away around me, the seconds counting down until my not-brother and my fictional boyfriend would, most likely, be brutally murdered and me alongside them.I wondered idly if it was Loghain’s suggestion that they fight in the van.I wracked my brain for memories of the game; part of me was positive that it had been Loghain who had told Howe to attack Highever, but it’d been a few months since I’d done a proper play-through.It’d make sense that he’d be the dickhole who suggested that Flynn and Alistair fight in the van; get rid of both the last Cousland (that he knew of) and the only threat to his taking the throne in one go, and his coup would last all of ten seconds before he had total power.The previous empathy I’d held for him and his decisions vanished.It was either Loghain or Cailan.Or Cailan acting on advice from Loghain.Either way, I had to do something about it.Or try, at the very least.Duncan had enough sway that if I could convince him to change the plan, it might save Flynn and Alistair’s lives.He could also decide to kill me, but hey.What’s a Thedosian Tuesday without a little murder?I leaned back on my log and stared up at the crystalline sky above me.It seemed too blue, too clear, to be the sort of day that all hell would break loose.It was the sort of day for having picnics with your lover underneath a willow tree, not prepping for literal monsters to attack you.

 A loud snuffling noise distracted me from the war of anxiety and uncertainty waging in my own head.I looked up from my grass pile to see the mabari I’d befriended sniffing his way over to me, his stub tail wagging before his tongue licked its way up my cheek. 

 “Hello,” I greeted him glumly, dropping the rest of the grass to take his big head in my own and rub his cheeks.His tongue flopped out of his mouth as he panted happily, rubbing his head on my hands.He wormed his way into my lap, his massive form making me grunt as I tried to shove him off, but he would not have it until his heavy body was sitting in my lap.Well, as much of his body as could _fit_ in my lap anyway.I snorted, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his fur.He smelled a bit like the kennels, and the weird metallic smell that animals got when they spent a lot of time outside.He wasn’t my dog, but his presence was comforting.It helped to soothe my frazzled nerves, to have him panting in my lap, smacking my hand with an enormous paw when I paused in my scratching of his ears, as if to say _Um, excuse me, I didn’t give you permission to stop._

 “I don’t know whose dog you are, but you are a very, very good boy,” I murmured against his neck.He chuffed in reply.An eternity passed as we sat there, my thighs going numb from his heavy, comforting body, his presence easing my mind in a way nothing else had since I had fallen into this nightmare. 

 “Ah — what a heart-warming sight — Fiona Cousland, reunited at last with her faithful war-hound, who braved the Korcari Wilds to find her after her family was slain.”

 I looked up at the intruder, locking eyes with none other than Loghain Mac Tir, my own narrowing in dislike.The mabari in my lap lifted his head and showed his teeth, a low, menacing growl rumbling in his belly.I buried my hand in the short fur now standing on end at the nape of his neck, scowling at the teryn.His tone of voice told me he didn’t find the sight of me cuddling with this dog heart-warming _at all_.On the contrary, it sounded disdainful, almost _challenging_.The mabari growled louder.I could feel his muscles clench as he prepared to launch himself out of my lap and at Loghain. _Easy, boy_.

 “Isn’t it, though?” I gave him my most award-winning smile.“I can’t believe he found me.He’s such a _good boy_.Very _loyal_.”

 “Indeed,” Loghain sneered, before marching off in the direction of his tent.I watched him go with a scowl, momentarily distracted from the Herculean task I still had ahead of me.Flynn was hot on Loghain’s heels, his brow furrowed and his eyes dark. 

 “What did Loghain want?For Andraste’s sake, tell me you did not let your mouth get away with you.”

 I kicked my grass bits at him.“He just stopped to talk to me about Rollo.”

 The words were out of my mouth before I knew I had said them.I watched Flynn’s eyes widen almost involuntarily, his fingers twitching, a tell-tale sign he was itching to reach for the comfort his sword could provide him.

 “How do you know his name?” his voice was strained, attempting to sound nonchalant.I opened my mouth to answer before I realized…

 Never, not once, any time when I had played the game, did I name my Cousland’s mabari Rollo.My throat felt dry as my heart started beating too fast to be healthy.I tried to swallow, but couldn’t. 

 “I don’t know,” I managed, my voice barely more than a whisper.Rollo reached up to snuffle at my cheek, his hot breath blowing tendrils of hair around my face before he licked me, apparently satisfied with what he smelled.I couldn’t move. _How did I know the name of Fiona Cousland’s dog?_

“Rollo, to me,” Flynn ordered, and Rollo happily hefted himself up off of my lap and trotted over to Flynn, stubby tail wagging the whole while before he sat down beside him.He scowled as he scratched his ears.“Duncan cannot see you.I tried,” he shook his head and rested his hand atop Rollo’s head.“Trust me.I tried.But the king, Loghain, and Duncan are to resume strategizing along with the mage leaders, right up until the start of the battle.There is nothing I can do to gain you the audience you seek.”

I was of half a mind to stride right into that fucking tent anyway, tell Cailan to get fucked, and take matters into my own hands.Something on my face must have given it away though, because Flynn gave me a warning look and I felt the heat rising in my cheeks.I was annoyed.Annoyed, on the verge of hysteria, and did I mention _on the verge of hysteria?_ The two Wardens could _not_ be in the vanguard!It was fate!Destiny!Whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, the entire future of Thedas rested on the shoulders of Alistair and Flynn, and dying in the vanguard with the rest of the Grey Wardens would mean the stupid Blight would spread unchecked.But if I couldn’t get ten goddamn seconds with Duncan, the _only person_ who could convince them to change the plan last minute, what else could I do?An idea came to me, and it wasn’t one I was particularly enthused to be entertaining.There was only one real option left to me.Flynn and Alistair would be in and out of Duncan’s company up until the minute of battle.Flynn already didn’t trust me, so what else did I have to lose?

_Well, your life, for starters._

_Better than being hauled off to become a many be-titted brood-mother._

_Be-titted isn’t a word._

_I’m barely holding my shit together right now, okay — not the best time for semantics._

 “Is there anywhere here, and I mean _anywhere_ we can go where there is no-one who can hear us?” I asked him, a bit of desperation coloring my tone.He studied me, pondering, his thumb brushing over the crest of bone in Rollo’s skull as the mabari leaned onto his legs.Thank God he, at least, was taking my solemnity seriously.After a pause, he nodded, and jerked his head in the direction of the mabari pens. 

“We can pretend to be putting Rollo back in his enclosure.Hardly anyone bothers the hounds save the kennel master and Alistair,” he murmured, casting his eyes around to make sure no Nosy Nancy was paying attention to the way he was barely moving his lips.“Whatever it is you’re so desperate to tell, I’ll listen.” 

I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but a bit of the tightness in my chest seemed to loosen a bit.There was time.There were precious few hours between now and the estimated arrival of the horde, but there was time.I felt like crying from relief.He didn’t trust me, but he trusted my genuine fear enough to listen. 

I picked myself up off the log and led our ragtag group to the kennels, Rollo bumping my hand with his snout anytime he thought I wasn’t paying him enough attention.Flynn undid the little makeshift lock, and we slid inside among the smells of Mabari crunch (I really didn’t want to think what was in it), and dog shit.He knelt down on a patch of dirt relatively clear from poop and I followed suit, leaning in close.Rollo lay on his back for us to rub his belly and I swallowed, words suddenly refusing to come.Flynn knew there was something odd about me, I knew.That oddness led to distrust. 

_He’s willing to listen, and if he’s anything like Liam, he’ll keep at it until someone else listens too._

I took a deep breath.“If I were to tell you that I knew the outcome of Ostagar, what would you say?” I muttered, casting my eyes around for eavesdroppers.There were none.

“I would want to know how you came by such foreknowledge and demand for you to tell me everything you know.” He pressed his head closer to mine so that I could feel his breath on my ear as he scratched the backside of one of Rollo’s front legs. 

“As to the _how_ I know part, I can’t explain it.Call it a gut feeling, but someone is going to betray you all, and if you fight in the vanguard with Alistair, you will die.Every Grey Warden.Everyone.Every single soldier will fall to the darkspawn.”

His face betrayed nothing as he kept playing with the dog, Rollo’s massive paw batting his forearm repeatedly any time he paused too long between pets.“And the king?”

“Dead, crushed in the fist of an ogre.”He swallowed. 

“That is…disturbingly specific.” 

I winced and nodded slightly.My voice pitched even lower so I could barely hear myself over the baying of the hounds and the general noises of the camp.“It’s Loghain.He’s going to quit the field of battle and abandon everyone.The only hope of you not dying and the Warden Order surviving in Ferelden is if you and Alistair light the beacon.”

Flynn’s eyebrows almost disappeared behind the curls falling over his forehead.“How can you know that little detail?” 

I knocked my elbow into his ribs, hard enough to make him yelp. “I already told you _I don’t know_.” I hoped enough exasperation shone through for him to think that I couldn’t explain it for ignorance.Because I really _couldn’t_ explain it without someone chopping my head off in the naive belief I was an abomination.Although, maybe cryptic answers weren’t the best way to go about this either. 

“Loghain nominated his own men for the task,” Flynn turned to frown at me, his face barely inches from mine.If it were Alistair, I’d have been wetting my pants.As it was, I squirmed uncomfortably, unable to meet his eyes.I was just glad he wasn’t trying to kill me.

“That dirty rat bastard,” I growled under my breath. 

“I believe you,” he said gently and I looked up, surprised.It was the nicest tone he’d used with me _ever_. 

“Oh, thank fuck.”He reached up to rub my shoulder as I dissolved into relieved tears, my knees giving way under my confession.He pulled me to him and rubbed my back gently as Rollo pushed himself into our weird group hug.“I was absolutely terrified you were going to want to skewer me on the end of your sword.”

“Not that I’m not tempted from time to time, but not today.Real fear, real desperation, is hard to fake.Even a demon cannot be so convincing.Whatever you’ve seen, however you know this, it scares you, as it should.It’s the same blind panic in your eyes as it was when you awakened for the first time.”

A shaky laugh escaped me and I pressed my face against his chest, trying not to fall into hysterics.This wasn’t over. _He_ still had to convince Duncan to change things.To convince _everyone_ to change things.Relief that he wasn’t denouncing me as a heretic was great, but there was still so much that had to be changed for this to go right, and little time to get it done.But somehow, I believed in him.Much more than I believed in myself.He was so much like Liam, it was hard not to.

“Sh, little sister; it’s going to be alright.”

I tensed slightly at the endearment but, for the first time since being chucked into what can only be described as an absolute living hell, I believed it.


End file.
